


All the Way

by catwalksalone



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M, Masturbation, Porn Battle, Sexual Fantasy, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-09
Updated: 2007-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:43:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwalksalone/pseuds/catwalksalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey's sure he knows where he's going - if only the other road didn't look so inviting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Way

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt - tension

Casey's always known where he's going. To the top. Right? And if that means bringing his best friend along for the ride because they are good together, then that's fine too, right? Because Dan is a superb writer and a real people person and having him around does Casey's career no harm at all. In fact, for all his bragging, Casey's damn sure he wouldn't have got this far without Dan.

And if Casey sometimes thinks about all the ways they are good together, then that's normal, isn't it? It's perfectly ordinary to spend time remembering the things Dan says to make him laugh, the beers they've shared, the drunken, intimate conversations.

"Rebecca does this thing with her mouth," Dan had said on one occasion, and had proceeded to elaborate in exquisite detail while Casey flushed briefly before his blood was needed elsewhere. Nothing wrong with being aroused at that, it was like porn, only without the visuals. And there's nothing wrong with replaying it over and over in his head, as Rebecca's mouth is gradually erased from the picture. It's healthy to have a rich sexual fantasy life. Doctor Phil says so.

And if Casey's sexual fantasies have begun to centre around Dan, it's only because Dan is the constant element in the stories he tells Casey. The women are revolving doors, Casey barely remembers more than the names. And if he sometimes imagines a vague, blank-featured man with Dan it is only because so many of the women Dan seems to date have those weird, androgynous names: Jaime, Glenn, Jai, Sammi. Surely anyone would be confused by that?

And if Casey finds himself staring across the office at Dan, head bent over laptop, mouth twisted in concentration; there is nothing wrong with wondering what those lips would feel like on Casey's cock. Nothing weird there. Just a matter of sensitive skin finding sensitive skin. And when Dan looks up and catches him looking  which happens more often than Casey would like  and gives him that slow smile and Casey gets hard just from seeing those lips curl up at the corners, it's just the shock of being surprised. Right?

Why should it matter that Casey seems to have joined Dan in these fantasies, where Casey's mouth is finding itself in places it never dreamed of going? So maybe Casey spends longer in the shower these days, soaping himself oh so very carefully, pressing into the dark places with a slippery finger that almost feels like it belongs to someone else. Hygiene is important, right? And maybe he finds himself drinking bottled beer more often  no more cans, no more draught  and he begins to notice the experience of the smooth, curved glass more than the drink itself, sliding the bottle further into his mouth than before, letting his tongue swirl around the top of it, sucking his cheeks in to feel the coolness of glass against their warm surface. It's not like he's practicing for anything. Is it?

So what if he finds himself face down on his bed, thrusting with desperate need into one pillow whilst holding another tight in his arms? And if, after he has come with fierce spurts and lung-bursting gulps of air, he strokes the pillow in his arms, muttering soothing words to it, stream of consciousness babble in which Dan's name figures prominently; what then?

Maybe there are days when Casey feels like he's going to explode from it, from the weight of being who he is, from the tension of the not-mattering. And maybe all he wants to do on those days is take the few steps across the office, pull Dan to his feet and eat him alive, inch by precious inch. And maybe that image stays with him, stark and vivid, as he hides away in the men's room, stripping his cock with ruthless efficiency, his post-orgasmic piss the only sting of salt he allows himself to feel. Because it isn't real, is it? It's just fantasy. And fantasies don't hurt. Fantasies don't matter. Casey can't let it matter.

Because Casey's going to the top and when he gets there he'll look over at his best friend who'll have made the trip with him (won't he?). And that _will_ be real. And it _will_ matter. After all, it's all he wants. Right?

_Right_?

* * *


End file.
